


Family Matters

by dreamcager



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy (no magic), Alternate Universe - Medieval (sorta?), Arranged Marriage AU, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Family Issues, M/M, Mentions of Masturbation, Pining, Slow Burn, awkward displays of affection and love, lots of sexual frustration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcager/pseuds/dreamcager
Summary: To form stronger bonds King Lars of Geotiblt and Queen Monica of the Zeelsirg Islands strike a deal; their sons are to be wed.  Cultural differences, family secrets and personal doubts make for a rough engagement.  However, the most important thing in all relationships is love and both Hermann and Newt come to realize just how much love can change things, especially where it matters most.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penbee_of_Treewood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penbee_of_Treewood/gifts).



> I shouldn't be writing this but haha I am because the muses moved me. I have NO IDEA if I will ever finish this or how long it will be but I hope you'll all enjoy the ride! (also this does not mean I have abandoned True Happiness! I just happened to have this chapter finished in like... a day.)

Hermann blinked, eyes burning hotter than the thick air clinging to his skin. Confusion reigned before memory took hold. He was resting under the willow tree near the edge of the palace grounds, skin coated with sweat and a book wilting and dogeared in his lap. He winced as he stretched, his rear and back protesting the dirt and root-strewn bedding he’d found himself sprawled across. Thankfully his leg, still resting over the raised root he had placed it upon, did not so much as twinge uncomfortably.

A sound, a splash from the creek, diverted his attention from his body aches. That was what had stirred him. Judging from the face of his shadow the splashing was nothing he needed to fear. Still, Hermann was curious. Rising to his feet and retrieving the cane he had propped against the trunk of the willow Hermann teetered his way towards the water. His bodyguard, likely bored out of his skull, followed at a short distance.

Hermann crested the hill just over the ditch and both his stomach and dick jumped at what he saw. A man, tanned body completely bared, stood in the middle of the creek and gazed about with the most awe-filled expression. Hermann was incredibly grateful for his propensity for light reading; he had a barrier to discreetly use as coverage for his spike of arousal. What he could not hide behind his book was the flush of his face but he could argue it as a mark from the heat typical of Zavmnth.

Clearing his throat, Hermann made his way down the incline. “I say, what in the goddess’ name are you doing?”

The man stilled, body coated in rivulets of water, squinted up at him then turned and gestured wildly about him. Hermann fought to keep his eyes up.

“What does it _look_ like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re fooling about and aiming to catch your death.”

“It’s too hot to catch a cold, _gazlite_ ,” the man scoffed. Hermann frowned, perplexed by the foreign word. Surely it wasn’t anything flattering.

He reached the bank and at this distance could see the very naked man also had a smattering of odd markings along his arms and chest. What he had mistaken for mud was actually detailed pictures and lines on his skin. He wasn’t able to quite make out what the pictures were supposed to be but it hardly seemed like an irrational pattern.

“Your highness,” spoke the shadow, breaking his self-imposed rule of general silence, “I suggest we leave this madman and you return home immediately.”

“Madman? You call me mad, you plebeian?” The stranger’s squeaky voice seemed to hike up to an impossible octave. “I’ll have you know I’m a genius, waaaay above your level!”

“Genius or not, still obviously disturbed,” Hermann sneered, turning his back on the man and starting back up the hill.

“ _Di-disturbed?_ ” The indignant squawking that followed was hardly parsable, a mixture of Geotiblese and some other language falling together in an unholy pidgin Hermann didn’t care to indulge. That seemed to appease his shadow and the bodyguard fell into step behind him, silent as if the exchange had never even happened. As for the strange man, he did not pursue and that was a wise decision on his part.

Already Hermann determined to put the interaction out of his mind, for the most part. Nothing interesting had come of it save for some pleasant imagery for his late night routine. He could drum up a picture of that soft curve of ass in his mind’s eye perfectly. At least it wasn’t a complete waste of his time.

 

Two Weeks Later

 

Court receptions were a terrible bore most occurrences but this one came unexpected. Hermann was informed late the night before that he would need to dress in his reception garments and found himself equal parts intrigued and irritated. Short notice and no planning always fouled his mood but it was the same for his father; whomever felt it was a great idea to drop in so suddenly on the King of Geotiblt was obviously lacking in both manners and intelligence. If they wished a favor they would need to offer a heavy trade in return after this slight.

Still offended by the unwelcome change to his schedule, Hermann scowled at his reflection before scrubbing his face with water from the basin. He couldn’t scrape away the lines of bitterness but it added a little color to his cheeks. Karla would be pleased.

The clothing he wore to receptions were fairly standard if flashier than his daily wear. Deep, dark blue breeches with a lighter blue tunic, followed by a red hunting cape with silver bindings. He pinned a silver brooch upon his collar to signify his status as second prince of the kingdom. Last, he placed his crown upon his head; a simple band of silver with a ruby stone that had been cut and selected at Hermann’s twentieth birthday.

“Mother’s crown had a ruby, too,” Dietrich had mused at the time. Hermann had been too overwhelmed at the time to ask after the strange look his older brother had given him then. Now, when he thought back on it he felt he had left behind a great mystery he could never again solve.

Agreeable to his father’s standards, Hermann took up his latest tome to pass the time until a servant fetched him for the affair. Grabbing up his cane, which seemed so simple and crude in counterpart to his ensemble, Hermann followed the servant to the reception hall.

King Lars, Dietrich and Karla were already seated upon their royal thrones; Lars front and center beside his wife’s empty seat and Dietrich and Karla to his right. Hermann took his place immediately to the left of his mother’s empty chair, and a moment later Bastien was taking his place to Hermann’s left. Together, despite Queen Petra’s absence, their family struck an imposing picture. Behind closed doors they fought and bickered but in the public eye they were a united front, always. An impenetrable wall.

Already the hard wood of the throne was aggravating Hermann’s bad hip. He prayed his discomfort only showed as a bland disinterest on his face. Lars always sent him sharp looks any time he happened to let the smallest wince through.

At last, the herald came forward and addressed them. “My King, my princes, my princess, I present the Duke Newton of the Zeelsirg Islands, cousin of Queen Monica, and his escort, a Sir Tendo.”

The herald bowed and scurried out of sight just as two figures began marching up the hall. One man had a handsome face and the mark of a quick smile, dressed in leather armor with an empty scabbard at his side; all weaponry was forbidden in the royal court. Next to him was a man with—

Hermann blinked, sitting up a bit taller in his seat and subconsciously cursing his slouching. That man, he had seen that man before, but where? His flowing green and gold robes did not resemble anything Hermann had seen before and the man’s hair was a veritable mess. The glasses he wore were also quire different from the elegant style Hermann knew to be of Geotiblt fashion, so where was that strange feeling of previous familiarity coming from?

Hermann pondered his mixed thoughts for a time until both men reached the foot of the dais. Both bowed low, but when the robed man stood the one in armor remained on his knee.

“Greetings from the Island Nation of Zeelsirg, your majesty, and to you, your highnesses,” the man began and it took all of Hermann’s self-control not to hurl himself out of his seat. That voice—

“Duke Newton,” Lars began, his voice carrying the frightening authority of a King with no patience, “what business do you have in my kingdom?”

“Your majesty, please, call me Newt.”

_Silence._

Hermann didn’t dare move. It was like the very air had been sucked from the room, waiting to be released or to explode. Only shifting his eyes, Hermann looked to his father. He may have imagined it but he could swear his father’s lips thinned even further.

Newton stood there blinking, unaffected. Unafraid. But a sudden clamoring next to him jostled the mood and all eyes turned their gazes upon Tendo.

“Your majesty, your highnesses, please do not allow Duke Newton’s informality to color your opinion of him just yet,” Tendo said, his accent heavy and his Geotiblese less polished and more formal than Newton’s. He seemed to be concentrating very hard and Hermann felt a fraction of compassion for the man. “The Island Nation of Zeelsirg wishes to establish a strong relationship with Geotiblt. The Duke is here to offer you a proposal inspired by the Queen Monica herself.”

“My opinion has yet to be established, but I suppose if this is a direct offer from a fellow monarch I shall deign to hear you out while withholding judgment.” Despite Lars’ admission Hermann was still unable to breathe.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Newton said, still unaffected by his previous breach of conduct. Again, Tendo spoke.

“Yes, thank you, but I’m afraid this offer is only for your ears, your majesty. Your highnesses cannot be present for the terms.”

This time Hermann didn’t care to hide his reaction. He outright leaned forward to look over at Dietrich. From the shifting sounds behind him Bastien was just as curious.

“Out of the question!” the eldest prince bellowed. “A private audience with the king is only ever granted to fellow monarchs and chieftains of other nations. We have granted you a formal reception and our undivided attention and yet you wish to divide it so casually?”

“Peace, Dietrich,” Karla warned, her tone soft. Their brother forced himself to sit back but his face was still ruddy with indignation. Lars’ frown remained a thin line, untrusting.

For a moment no one spoke. Then Newton tilted his head, his chin high in the air.

“I understand you have your ways, but listen here. I come directly from Zeelsirg Islands, sent from the Queen herself. She hopes to make a trade, a damn good one, to just the _right_ kingdom and we’ve been searching for just the _right_ one to receive her offer.

“Now, you can send us away and we’ll leave, never to bother you again. Or, you can accept our humble request for just a little privacy and possibly earn your kingdom an alliance with one of the world’s wealthiest trade nations of exotic goods this side of the Gnormando Mountains. So. What say you, your majesty?”

Almost as one, everyone turned to Lars. The king closed his eyes a moment, seemingly in thought, then gave a nod.

“I wish to hear this offer. But allow my eldest, Prince Dietrich, to come along for the negotiations as well.” Lars opened his eyes. “He shall take the throne after me. It is essential he be aware of these terms should it affect his rule and our nation’s future.”

Newton looked to Tendo. Tendo nodded and Newton shrugged.

“As you wish, your majesty.”

 

The meeting between his father, brother, and the travelers lasted three hours. When they emerged from the room Lars had looked contemplative, Dietrich was silent and pensive, and the strangers… unreadable. Lars announced he needed some time and closed himself off in his quarters. All the younger siblings could do was speculate.

“Should we talk to Dietrich?” Bastien asked once the three settled in an enclosed courtyard with cups of tea.

“No,” Hermann answered firmly with his cup half-raised. “Our brother has surely been sworn to secrecy. Asking will only vex him.”

“But what if he were to just _accidentally_ let something slip?” Bastien wheedled.

Karla reached over and twisted his ear, causing him to yelp. “Enough. If anyone tells us anything it shall be father and it will be because he wills it be.”

Bastien pouted, rubbing his ear. Hermann passed him a biscuit knowing a sweet would assuage any ruffled feathers.

“Where did the Zeelsirg representatives go after the meeting?” Karla asked before taking a sip of her tea.

“I believe the Duke has been quartered in the Red suite,” Hermann said with a shrug. “They probably are trying to settle in, or perhaps they’re touring the grounds.”

Hermann had a sudden fleeting memory of a tanned backside and busied himself pouring a new cup of tea from the still warm pot. Excusing himself when they had only just sat down wouldn’t do, no matter how much he wanted some alone time.

“I think father will take the offer,” Bastien said after finishing the cookie. Karla and Hermann exchanged a glance. Bastien grinned that youthful, bright smile looking both smug and secure in a mix that Hermann surely had never felt in his life. “You _know_ I’m right. Father’s putting on an act to make the Duke sweat it out, maybe sweeten the deal until we come out on top with more than the islanders planned. It’s all a part of the haggling.”

“Who said they plan to compromise?” Karla retorted though her brow was wrinkled in thought. “I’ve read about the Zeelsirg Islands. They have plenty of riches and goods to spare; whatever the bargain I highly doubt they are lacking anything we could offer.”

“We have land!” Bastien was in his element, excitement teeming in his voice. “Land, and we’re landlocked between several other, smaller countries. “If they want to establish safe intercontinental trade routes they would need to come through Geotiblt at some point during a journey. Perhaps they wish to make a crossroads here, or host an official caravan, or—” 

“You are only started and I’m already tired of the speculation,” Hermann said with a long suffering sigh. Setting down his cup Hermann stood, affecting boredom. “I’ll be in my room should any _real_ announcements be made, but until then I expect to not be disturbed please.”

Bastien groaned about Hermann’s lack of curiosity and Karla tutted about him being a shut-in, but Hermann was quite pleased with himself. Right now all he wanted was some peace and quiet so he and his hand could spend a little quality time imagining the smiling, warm face of the Duke twisted into an expression of pleasure.

 

Dinner was always a family affair but when Hermann arrived at the royal table in the dining hall he was taken aback. A seventh place had been set directly across the table from King Lars’ usual place. Hermann raised his brows and looked to Karla as he took his place. She shrugged, just as lost as he. Their father’s placid features gave nothing away.

Bastien, Dietrich and Maria, Dietrich’s wife, arrived together, Bastien taking his place beside Hermann while the other two sat across from them.

“What’s this? Who else is joining us?” Bastien asked, shameless in his shock.

“I’m sure you will find out soon enough, brother,” Dietrich said, his face as impassive a mask as Lars’. If Maria had any clue she held her tongue, her gaze downcast and demure.

A few tense minutes passed before anyone else entered the hall… then the Duke, informal as ever, burst through the door dressed, well, hardly dressed at all. Just green shortpants flowing almost like a skirt above his knees covered him. His glasses remained but everything else, including his shoes, were missing. It took a full six seconds for Hermann to realize he was gaping and shut his trap. At least his blunder was quick to hide. Karla was a brilliant scarlet that would not abate, while Bastien had actually snorted before attempting to calm his laughter.

Horrified, Hermann turned to look at his father but found the king unusually serene at the lack of propriety. Dietrich was off color but seemed just as accepting.

What on the goddess’ green planet was going on?

“Thanks for inviting me to the party,” Newton said as he climbed into the empty chair awaiting him. He grinned at everyone. Such cheek Hermann could hardly abide.

“Duke, it is gladdening to see you have made yourself… comfortable in our home.” Despite his words Lars’ mouth had turned down a bit at the corners. Newton’s smile grew even bigger.

As if he couldn’t get any more smug… “Really, your majesty, call me Newt.”

Bastien nearly gagged and reached for his goblet of water. Hermann very nearly leaped out of his chair, certain he needed to set this insolence to rights but before he could Lars spoke again.

“Very well then. Newt, it is a delight for you to join us tonight.”

Hermann pinched his own thigh. Shockingly, he did not awaken to the stimulus of pain.

This couldn’t be happening. No way was the sex fantasy of Hermann’s recent dreams sitting at their table, about to dine with his family while also mostly naked. And to top it all off his father was _humoring_ this irrational man’s request to speak informally. Absurd. Unthinkable. Imposs—

“Before we begin,” Lars said, voice soft but commanding just as much presence as ever, “I have an announcement. Dietrich and I discussed the terms of the offer brought to us from Queen Monica and we both agreed the trade was more than fair, to us and our kingdom. That said, we still had a decision to make and as king the final word on the matter is my own.”

Beside Hermann Bastien was a squirming mess while Karla remained still as stone. Maria had her eyes closed and Dietrich had his gaze raised to the heavens as he often did when seeking his own patience. Herman didn’t dare look back for Newton’s expression, his eyes were riveted open, centered on his father.

“The Zeelsirg Islands and the State of Geotiblt shall confirm a future partnership through an auspicious occasion; marriage. As Dietrich is already wed and Karla engaged to the son of the Gnormandon Chieftain, the choice comes down to you two.” Lars peered over steepled fingers to his younger sons. Hermann glanced to Bastien and stared, watching in morbid fascination as his usually jubilant brother turned a startling tint of ash.

“Newt, your husband shall be my son, Bastien.”

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Hermann stared up at the canopy of his bed, unable to sleep. He’d lain down two hours ago and only managed to toss and turn, mussing his once creaseless sheets. Even the comfort of a hot cup of lavender tea had failed to calm his mind.

_Why._

Why had things come to this and why so fast? Bastien to be married to some obscure royal from a distant nation. Lars’ choice to ignore Hermann as a suitor despite his age being closer to the Duke’s and having no other prospects. Dietrich’s silence in the matter. Maria’s distance and Karla’s unmoved acceptance. Hermann couldn’t stand it.

Throwing off the thin cloth blankets Hermann rose to his feet and pulled on his robe. Grabbing up his cane, the second prince swept out of his room and into the hall. The steady clack of his cane against the cold floor was the only sound to accompany him. He had traveled these halls all his life and needed no light to guide his way. As it was, he had no actual destination in mind, only seeking to tire himself out so that he might eventually find rest.

He turned down a corridor and found a gentle glow coming from under the door of the west parlor. The room was used for private meetings between the King and small, local business men when disputes were raised beyond the appointed magistrate’s skill of diplomacy. Hence, the room was rarely in use at all. Hermann shuffled in that direction and peeked inside the doorway.

A fire was aglow in the hearth despite the warmth of the summer air. Someone sat in the pillow-laden chair before it, unmoving. He wondered if perhaps they had fallen asleep.

Hermann stepped in and, at the first thump of his cane hitting the floor, the person twisted to look back. Even with their face overshadowed Hermann recognized the form.

“Bastien?”

“Why are you awake, Hermann?”

“I believe I should ask you the same.”

The younger prince turned away, refusing to respond as he gazed back into the fire. Hermann made his way further in and took a seat beside his brother, folding his hands over his cane. The orange glow that lit Bastien’s features made him look so, so young to Hermann, smoothing out his features. Bastien had hardly an age line on his fresh face, a stark contrast to Hermann’s own drawn countenance.

Hermann didn’t say anything. He just sat there, quiet, breathing slowly. After just a few minutes his younger brother spoke, never one to stay silent for long if an audience were around.

“What am I going to do?” he asked. Hermann didn’t need clarification of the context.

“You are going to get married,” Hermann said plainly, keeping his gaze firmly on the dancing flames. “You will still live here, with your family.” That was surely more comforting than Karla’s fate, soon to be married then left with her husband in the mountainous Gnormando kingdom.

Bastien shook his head. “No, I mean…” He bit his lip.

Herman awaited a fuller answer but Bastien seemed too struggle. Finally, he turned his face away and forced out the words.

“I mean, I’m not… I don’t…” Bastien let out a growl and rubbed his face with his hands. “I have no desire for men.”

“Ah.” That… Hermann hadn’t expected. He did not have the same drawback himself but he could imagine being unable to perform for one’s spouse could be troubling.

Hermann pursed his lips, speaking cautiously. “Have you spoken to father or Dietrich about this impeding the situation?”

Bastien scoffed. “Dietrich said he would hear no complaint on the matter and father,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “You know even better than I that we can’t disappoint father. He won’t have it.”

Hermann’s hand clutched at his cane grip all the tighter. “Yes, I know.”

Bastien covered his face with his hands and looked so much like the little, spoiled crybaby Hermann knew him to be. But he loved his little brother dearly, so the odd feeling of unfairness and irritating envy that had circulated in him since dinner began to fade. In their place rose concern and Hermann mentally chastised himself for being so selfish.

“Perhaps…” Hermann faltered, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Ah, perhaps I can talk to Dietrich. Find out if marriage is the only option, or if there is a way to turn down the Duke without causing a rift between our kingdoms.”

Bastien stilled, then slowly raised his head from his hands. “Do you really think there’s another way?”

“Well,” said Hermann, offering a smile, “what harm can come from asking?”

Bastien released a slow breath and though he did not smile he looked less burdened than he had all evening. Hermann stood and reached over to give his brother’s arm a gentle squeeze. Bastien rested his hand over Hermann’s and mouthed a word of thanks before turning back to the fire.

Hermann had no control over his brother, he could not force him to rest, but at least now he might afford Bastien some peace as unlikely as it was to stay.

 

“There is nothing to discuss, Hermann,” Dietrich said as soon as Hermann closed the door behind him. “Father has decided. Bastien will swallow his second thoughts and he will do his duty to our family and our country.”

Hermann had cornered his elder brother after an awkwardly quiet breakfast and insisted on a private conversation. Dietrich had responded irritably but allowed it. Now Hermann was wondering what the point was if even his brother could not be reasoned with.

“Please understand,” Hermann began, seating himself across from Dietrich’s desk at a stiff-backed chair, “Bastien does not want to disappoint or upset the Duke. He wants what is best for our kingdom but he fears his inclinations make him… unfit to this particular match. If there were a different way to create a bond with Zeelsirg—”

“There is no other way, Hermann. This was the offer we were extended, and both father and I agreed it was a good deal to make.”

“But what of Bastien’s feelings?” Hermann could not hide the emotion building in his voice, the rage fueled by the injustice of it all.

Dietrich responded with a dispassionate stare. “And what of the Duke’s feelings, Hermann?”

Hermann blinked, blindsided by the returning question. “The Duke? What—”

“The Duke,” Dietrich said, his voice still calm as stone, “has long accepted his task of finding an equally beneficial marriage partner. He knows his marriage is not to be one of youthful love and foolish romance. This is politics, Hermann. Each of us must fulfill our roles in a way that boosts our kingdom regardless of our own desires.”

“But, but Dietrich, what about me?” Hermann knew he sounded like a child but the words continued to tumble from his mouth, unbridled. “You know that I would never question father’s decision should he insist I marry for our kingdom. So why…” Hermann stopped, his eyes turning to gaze at his cane resting casually against Dietrich’s desk. He closed his mouth.

“You know why, Hermann.”

Hermann looked back to his brother, his hands curling into his lap until his knuckles turned white.

Dietrich ran a hand through his dusty blond hair, jostling his crown from its usual poised position. He sighed, glancing away. “Father’s favoritism isn’t new to you, Hermann. You must understand—”

“I’ll speak with father,” Hermann said, interrupting with a low, controlled tone. “It doesn’t matter if he’s determined to favor Bastien this way. He does not wish for this or believe he can please anyone with this lot. If I do not speak for him then who will? I know he will not speak for himself. Even if I am not eligible, there must be something I can say to change father’s mind.”

Dietrich leveled his gaze on Hermann, his face as unimpressed and exasperated as ever, but he closed his eyes for a moment and took a considering breath. Silence, and then, “Alright. Speak with him, Hermann. Do what you think is best. But if you cannot give father a convincing argument as to why Bastien need not marry the Duke, you can expect he will not bend.”

Relief and trepidation mixed in Hermann’s gut but having received his older brother’s blessing he felt he had the strength to move forward. Standing, Hermann gave an awkward bow.

“Thank you, Dietrich!”

“I won’t counsel you further on this matter,” Dietrich began after Hermann rose, “but I have a last bit of information for you. The official announcement does not go out until the start of next week. Have father convinced by the time the proclamation goes out or else nothing short of desperate scandal will stop this wedding.”

Nothing would be more humiliating and alienating to their father than causing a political fiasco before the entire kingdom’s eyes. And Hermann had a stomach-twisting suspicion that if any of his siblings were desperate enough to take that route, it would be Bastien. Hermann swallowed back against a tidal wave of terrible scenarios.

“Understood.”

 

The castle stables were extensive; several of the long, low-roofed buildings were scattered along the perimeter of the grounds. As children Hermann and Karla had explored every one while on “adventures,” playing out heroic deeds from the stories their mother had told them at bedtime. But there was one stable that housed the horses of the royal family, esteemed guests, and the King’s personal guardsmen. Hermann’s own shadow, following at the usual discreet distance, had a horse stationed there as well.

Hermann let the earthy sweet smell of hay tinged with musky horse manure and mild oats intermix and wash over him. In a way it was like coming home, but also a sad reunion. There wasn’t someone Hermann could reunite with here.

Sighing, he moved along the stalls, footfalls almost silent on the stray strands of hay scattered around. Once he came upon Peanut, one of his sister’s mares, she trotted over and snuffled at his hand. Hermann allowed a small smile as he scratched her nose and stroked her neck. Her dark eyes shone with life and innocence.

“Pretty girl,” Hermann cooed, reaching into his pocket for a treat. He withdrew an apple and a pocket knife, cutting off a small slice of the white flesh for her. She eagerly accepted the treat then nuzzled him all the more while he stroked hands over her white and red coat.

Footsteps approached that were heavier than his shadow’s and Hermann turned, alerted by the presence. If his father happened to see him here…

Sir Tendo had entered the stable, dressed down in breeches and a white tunic. By the ruddiness of his face it seemed he had quite a busy morning already.

“Good day, your highness,” he said in greeting, offering a smile that Hermann returned. Despite the man’s obvious lack of fluency he seemed a polite sort. Much more polite than his lord.

“Sir Tendo, was it? How have you been settling in?”

“Settling in?” Tendo paused a moment, then answered once he found his words. “Quite fine. Thank you, your highness. It is a great thankfulness to be housed so well in your kingdom.”

Pleasantries out of the way, Hermann returned to petting Peanut while Tendo attended his and the Duke’s mounts. They were both huge animals, dark as a raven’s wing and stout. The horses had glossy coats and an agreeable temperament; it was clear they were well cared for. Hermann respected that.

Having been distracted watching Tendo brush and coddle the two stallions, Peanut had started nosing at Hermann’s arm demanding more attention. He stroked her neck, considering. Could he trust this man?

Hermann cleared his throat. “Sir Tendo, I was curious…”

The knight looked to him expectantly. Hermann bit his lip.

“Curious about the Duke, you see. What do you know of him?” Not what he had meant to say but not a lie either.

Tendo took a moment to process Hermann’s words, continuing his brushing, before speaking. “Duke Newton is a good man. Talented with his mind and his hands. He only wants to create beautiful music.”

Hermann pursed his lips, not sure what to make of that.

“And what is his intent here?”

“In… tent?” The word puzzled the foreign man so Hermann searched for a substitute.

“Ah, his reason. Why is he here?” Why did he choose this kingdom? What was he playing at, trying to create a match with Hermann’s brother?

Tendo went quiet again, speaking after many moments of silence had passed. “The Duke is only doing what must be done for Zeelsirg. Same as what his Majesty, your father, yes?”

A pawn of his own kingdom as well, then? He was just the queen’s cousin so his own wishes meant nothing. Hermann sighed, dreading the futility of it all. Why did he care so much when there was nothing to be done to help Bastien?

“So he must be married? Nothing more can be done to bring his country prosperity?” Hermann closed his eyes, leaning against Peanut’s cheek.

“He must, and I hope soon,” Tendo replied. By the sound of his voice he was just as down as Hermann by the reality of it. It made him wonder if the man had some attachment to Newt beyond being his vassal and protector. Hermann did not blame him if it were only a sexual pull. But personality-wise? The Duke seemed too much like a spoiled, unrepentant child.

Unable to find the peace he had hoped, Hermann gave Peanut a final pat and left the stables just as jumbled and burdened as he had arrived.

 

Karla was Hermann’s last refuge and hope. Even if he could not find a proper argument to turn their father, perhaps he could find words of comfort to share with Bastien. Perhaps there was still hope this could end without political scandal.

His elder sister had sequestered herself in her rooms all day, only appearing at mealtimes. When she still did not venture out the next day Hermann called on her to meet with him in the garden for a stroll. She obliged but it was clear from her stormy countenance that she did not appreciate the summons.

“What’s this about, Hermann?” To the point, so she could leave all the quicker. Hermann frowned but didn’t have it in himself to scold her when she was obviously upset about the ordeal as much as he.

“Have you spoken to Bastien yet?”

Her jaw, already set in a frown, tightened further. “No. Have you?”

“I did, as few nights ago. He’s frightened, Karla. Afraid he cannot do his duty to his family.” He paused, hoping his words would sink in as they strolled along lines of tulips, fire bloom, and bellflower. “I need your help. I fear he—”

“Is he planning to run?” Her breathlessness was the only indication the gravity of the situation had struck her.

Hermann bit his lip. “I honestly don’t know. He just may, knowing our younger brother.”

“Damn men and their cowardice,” Karla hissed, her hand flying up to pinch at the bridge of her nose.

“See, that!” Hermann clamped on to her arm, stopping their movement. “That is what I need, Karla! Some of your resolve, your steel. Can’t you speak to him? Make him understand? You must know more than anyone what he’s going through.”

For a brief moment Hermann was allowed to hope. Then Karla lowered her hand, coming away from her face masked of all emotion. She turned her eyes on Hermann and he was taken aback by the tears he saw there.

“Karla?”

“You think…” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. “You think… I could comfort him? Or… or encourage him in this?”

“I…” Hermann stuttered, words failing him.

Karla shook her head and pulled away from him, her cheeks flushing more and more, and not just from the summer heat. “Hermann, you have no clue what you are asking! How I feel, you… You have no idea how I feel about my own marriage, and yet you think you can just assume I haven’t dreaded it since it was decided?”

Hermann suddenly felt cold while surrounded by the hot summer heat. His sister, his beacon, she couldn’t possibly be saying…

“But Karla,” he started, grasping for some hint of solidarity, “you never said anything to the contrary! No complains, no arguments, just bold acceptance.”

She gawked at him as if he had grown an extra head in those two seconds.

“Hermann, no one goes against father’s wishes. Even if I had said anything it would all have been for naught.”

Together they stood there in the garden, sun overhead and bright colors about, but all Hermann could see was icy gray. Reaching out, he tried to take her hand. “Karla, I—”

“Don’t.” She snatched her hand away, keeping her arms stiff at her sides. “Don’t start, little brother. It’s too late for pity, for me. Pity Bastien instead.” And with her eyes flush with tears she turned away, walking briskly back to the castle.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hermann stumbled his way to the closest bench seat. He practically fell upon it, his cane clattering carelessly to the dirt pathway. Burying his face in his hands, Hermann fought against horror and self-loathing. It was not supposed to be like this.

 

Another day passed and Hermann was no closer to solving any of his family’s problems, which had grown so many in number he was starting to wonder how he had never seen them before. He realized now that he had been blissfully ignorant of it all, going about his life full of self-pity and selfishness. But what did it matter if he saw all that now? He was helpless. There was nothing more to do. All he had left was to wait and hope and pray things worked themselves out.

_Pray._

He hadn’t prayed in a long time. The Goddess Syrnadepygg, the rising sun, had never drawn him in. He always looked for fact beyond the legend and myth of old, but Hermann was willing to get on his knees and pray if it meant something would work out and spare his family grief.

Hermann found himself walking late in the evening to a small temple on the hilltop. It was a part of the castle grounds but remained open to any villagers or travelers who sought a religious experience. Hermann had fond memories of his mother taking them there as children, once every single week. She found solace there and perhaps Hermann would as well.

As he neared the temple a shrill sound punctuated the air and Hermann froze, as did his shadow. The bodyguard ran ahead, leaving Hermann a few steps behind as the strange sound died out. The man pushed open the temple door, hand on the hilt of his blade, but after a moment he stepped back and relaxed, a look of boredom reappearing on his face. Curious, Hermann approached, the sound returning much gentler now and in the form of a melody. Half-stepping inside, Hermann took a quick look then almost stepped back out. Almost.

The Duke was sitting on one of the benches located just in the temple. In his hands was a strange, long instrument which he held delicately to his lips. The quiet notes he played sounded like a tender lullaby, hardly like the harsh bleat from moments ago.

Hermann stepped inside but remained near the door, letting it close almost silently behind him. The mood inside the temple was strangely intimate. It almost seemed as if this was not something he should be witnessing.

Newton took no notice of him as he played with his back to Hermann, and Hermann was content for it to remain that way. From behind he could see all of Newton that the candlelight revealed. As always, he had no shirt on and while Hermann found the impropriety uncouth he could allow himself to admire the firm musculature of his shoulders. The faint orange glow gleamed against the dark lines of his tattoo work. Lines Hermann wanted to examine for their meaning. Trace with his fingertips. Or maybe his tongue.

Swallowing back sudden dryness in his throat Hermann closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Without anything to distract him Hermann sunk back into the music. Now that he relaxed, quiet and still, he noticed the music did not hold the impetuous, impudent energy Hermann expected from Newton. His mouth, though not quite closed, only issued soft, lilting tones. It was calming, almost sweet.

It seemed only moments later that the music faded away, the last note ringing beautifully through the temple. Waiting a few seconds, Hermann opened his eyes and stared.

Newton was gripping the flute in his hands and his head was tilted down. His shoulders shook and suddenly Hermann didn’t want to be there. Straightening in a hurry, Hermann scrambled to the door and accidentally upset a candelabra. The tall candle holder clattered to the ground and Hermann heard a gasp behind him. He didn’t stick around, nodding to his bodyguard and hobbling his way back to the castle. A shout came after him but Hermann didn’t stop, and only one set of footfalls trailed after him all the way back to his quarters.

 

Hermann started up at the canopy of his bed, morning sunlight flashing through the tree branches and fluttering through his window. He hadn’t slept a wink and today, today his father would make an official proclamation.

_Bastien…_

Hermann struggled into a sitting position, hissing softly when his bad knee protested until he stretched that leg out. Hunched, nearly doubled over with his fists in the cloth sheets, Hermann squeezed his eyes shut and willed the burning sensation away. Sharp, ragged breathes eventually evened out and Hermann had control again. Wiping his face, Hermann forced himself to stand and get dressed.

He would still speak with his father but he didn’t have any arguments, any support, or any faith in himself.

The walk down to breakfast was slow and by the time Hermann arrived at the table his father and siblings had already eaten and left, if they had eaten at all. All that remained was his sister-in-law, Maria. If the Duke had come down to eat with them he was now absent as well.

“Morning,” Hermann muttered, taking his place and reaching for a piece of toast. Two types of preserves were available but Hermann didn’t even look at whatever he slathered on the bread before he took a bite. It hardly tasted sweet, just weirdly gelatinous and grainy. Grimacing, Hermann forced himself to swallow the bite but dropped the rest of his breakfast onto his plate.

“Hermann,” chimed the soft voice of Maria, her gray eyes shining in concern, “are you not feeling well?”

Hermann frowned, realizing he must look awful if his usually impassive sister-in-law noticed his distress. Normally he might have tried to downplay his troubles but after the last week he found little will could be stirred to put up such a front. “No. This business between the Duke and my brother worries me.”

Maria blinked, her eyebrows raising. “How so?”

“Bastien, he…” and while Hermann knew he shouldn’t tell his younger brother’s secrets, Maria was not one to gossip so Hermann ploughed on, his words growing more agitated the more he spoke. “He is not ready for marriage. I have no counsel to offer him and Karla refuses to try. Dietrich is resigned and my father isn’t the type to give in without a good argument and—!”

Hermann threw up his hands, practically groaning with frustration. “I would do anything, offer myself if it would be any help but I know that’s not going to work. Father will object, or the Duke will, and Bastien will likely do something foolhardy that will bring nothing but trouble to our family and our kingdom.”

Maria fell quiet, delicately stirring her spoon through the remains of her creamed wheat. By the way she gazed at nothing as if in a trance Hermann almost expected she had nothing more to add, just allowing him peace of mind to get his futile whining out of his system. But then she took a deep breath and spoke again. “I do not think your father will object so quickly.”

Disbelieving, Hermann practically snorted out a short laugh. “You don’t know King Lars very well.”

“On the contrary,” Maria said, turning her gaze fully onto Hermann, “I believe I know him better than you regarding this. If you recall, I married into this family. I’m sure you just never knew that it was actually my elder sister who was first in line to marry his highness, Prince Dietrich.”

“What?” Hermann couldn’t help but gape. He had never heard of this.

Nodding, Maria explained in an even tone. “The arrangement between our kingdom and my family’s was made when Prince Dietrich and my sister were both very young. I was hardly a babe at the time and my younger sister not even yet born. When the time came for the promises our fathers made was to be kept, my elder sister, Daphne, had already fallen deeply in love with another. And Eris, the darling, was much too young to be wed. So when plans were being made I stood up myself and declared I would wed the prince, as long as it pleased our kings.”

“And, they just allowed you to do so? No one fought you, or tried to put you in your place?”

A slim smile overcame Maria’s face, tight in its lack of humor. “Oh, there was quite a lot of fighting, but your father was not the one to complain. His stance seemed to be that as long as the promise was upheld and our pairing was of mutual benefit to our kingdoms then there should not be any reason I would make his highness any less of a bride as Daphne may have.”

“But that seems practical and fair-minded.” Not at all like what Hermann would expect from his father who always had his way.

Maria tilted her head in a gentle bow, and Hermann knew from that slight gesture that the conversation was over. He gave her a nod and whispered contemplatively his soft thank you before standing. He hadn’t had much of an appetite anyway.

Hermann took a deep breath then started on his way towards his father’s chambers. He still felt unsure, this was still just a long shot, but if what Maria said was true then he had more of a chance than he imagined before. It might not be an easy argument to win but Hermann had determined to do something and, by the goddess, he was going to stand firm as long as he could muster. For Bastien, and maybe just a little bit for himself, too.

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Just thought I'd pop in to give y'all some in-universe trivia!
> 
> Did you know, several names I've created for Kingdoms and such are actually anagrams of other names, some from Pacific Rim canon and some that are not! The Goddess Syrnadepygg is also an anagram.
> 
> Geotiblt language, which Newt has gained fluency in and Tendo still struggles with, is a language where the vowels are often muted and the consonants are prominent. The most common form of the language is fairly easy for foreigners to pronounce, but if you go deep into the rural areas the vowels become even more muted and even native speakers like Hermann can hardly understand it.
> 
> Also, sorry for the lack of Newt! He will be more prominent starting next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Hermann was not one for unnecessary movement. It looked uncouth, wiggling like a child in need of relief. Grown men shouldn’t fuss and fidget. A prince in particular must be poised. So it was with that belief firm in his mind that Hermann stood, unmoving, outside his father’s room. In just a moment he was going to knock on the door, storm inside and demand his father’s undivided attention. Any minute now, he was going to do it!

… Any minute now…

He stood there with his fist raised, knuckles glancing against the wooden door up until the door moved by itself. Or rather, until his father opened it with the intent to go out. Startled, both men took a step back though Hermann couldn’t say if his own expression was as placid as his father’s upon discovery.

Lines appeared in Lars’ brow as he gazed over his son; he was already decked out in his reception finery to meet with the court over kingdom business. That meant Hermann only had this one last chance.

“Father, I must—” 

“Hermann,” the king cut in, sidestepping his son to start down the hall, “whatever you need can wait. I must speak with the chancellors and counts, you know this.”

His pulse picking up, Hermann struggled to follow Lars, his cane clapping erratically against the ground in his rush. “N-no, Father. I must speak with you now.”

“I will be available to speak after court, Hermann,” was his father’s stiff reply. Hermann had feared this. He was too late and his father would not listen.

Panic set in and Hermann stumbled, cane clattering away as he dropped to his hands and knees painfully on the ground. Face hot and tears threatening, Hermann took in a shuddering breath. He was already on his knees, so he changed tactics.

“I beg you, Your Majesty! Lend me your ear for a few minutes! Please!”

Desperation was not befitting of a prince of Geotiblt but the effect was all that mattered. Lars stopped and turned, regarding Hermann from where he stood. Hermann didn’t dare look up. Footfalls neared him until the king was nearly upon him, then Lars spoke, his voice unusually soft. “Rise, Hermann. Come with me.”

He did not wait for his son to gather himself before opening the closest door and slipping inside. Hermann, struggling to get his cane under him, staggered after.

The room happened to be Petra’s old study, a room Hermann hadn’t set foot in for years. Lars threw back a thick curtain, flooding the area with sunlight. A tea table, armchairs and a lounge sofa waited invitingly, surrounded by filled bookshelves and flowerless vases. Lars chose a chair at the table, sitting regally with his back stiff and straight. Hermann closed the door behind him then approached, slow and with his head hung humbly.

“Hermann.” The utterance of his name was an order in itself. He looked up, making eye contact and fighting the urge to swallow the thickness in his throat. He hoped his face was not as red as it felt it had heated.

After a moment of sizing him up (or so it felt like to Hermann) his father spoke again. As always, his tone was measured and bland.

“Hermann. Sit and tell me what it is you insist that I know.”

The prince nodded and took the other chair. He gripped the armrests just to keep his hands from shaking.

“Your Majesty,” Hermann began, intent on holding fast to both politeness and decorum to cover his previous unstately grovelling. “I wish to petition you to reexamine your choice in the matter of Bastien’s betrothal.”

“That matter is settled, Hermann,” Lars said, but the raise of his brows indicated surprise on his part.

“Please, sir, just hear my plea!” If his father would simply listen—

“All right.”

Hermann blinked, surprised.

“I will listen to what you have to say, but that does not change that this marriage will happen.” Lars gave a swift wave to gesture Hermann on. “Well?”

“Yes? Ah, I mean, of course, Your Majesty.” Hermann swallowed then took a deep breath, centering his thoughts.

“First and foremost, I believe you will note Bastien is, quite frankly, a spoiled child. He is not pleased with this turn and I fear he might shame us to avoid the situation entirely.”

It was here Hermann expected Lars to interrupt him but his father remained silent, attentive. Nodding, Hermann soldiered on.

“He was not consulted in the matter and I’m sure you understand it was a shock to be so suddenly betrothed. N-not that I don’t understand your choice to create an advantageous tie with the kingdom of Zeelsirg, of course! But it can make a person feel… feel _caged_ to be roped into a life-changing situation without even the barest time to consider what it means.”

“And,” Hermann continued, feeling his face heating anew, “and Bastien has no physical pull towards men. I am sure you can see how an awkward marriage on top of dissatisfaction might lead to tensions between our kingdoms should either of them feel slighted by, ah, bedroom performance.”

If the subject was at all embarrassing to Lars the man had an uncanny lack of physical response. Hermann drummed his fingers, wishing the silence would swallow him up into oblivion before he spoke again.

“S… so there you have it, Your Majesty.” It was the best Hermann could do.

Lars watched him a moment more before sighing, his eyes closing in thought.

“Bastien put you up to this, I see.”

“What? No, not at all.”

“Then it was Dietrich.” Lars opened his eyes, his lips pinching in displeasure.

“Why would Dietrich ask me to speak to you when he could easily do it himself?” Hermann gaped, confusion fighting with his focus. No, he could not be distracted from the task at hand. He had already come this far.

Lars’ frown deepened further. “Then if not for them, why do you speak? Hermann, what is the meaning of this?”

“I only want what is best for the kingdom, Father, and what is best for our family,” Hermann said, hoping his sincerity would win him at least some time if nothing else.

Where Lars’ face had been mostly unreadable it now moved to animate, a scowl moving across his features and his gaze turning hawkish. Hermann squirmed before he could stop himself, clasping his hands together in his lap to ground himself.

“All right. You seem intent on questioning my decision, so let me give you the chance to rule on this matter.”

Alarmed, Hermann tired to apologize for his boldness but his father silenced him with an abrupt wave of his hand.

The king spoke again. “Consider this. Our kingdom is offered a deal with Zeelsirg, a veritable monopoly over exotic island trade and a free harbor to start our own fleet of ships. This offer is hinged upon only one condition; a marriage between the duke to one of royal blood. We cannot turn down such an offer, and now that it has been arranged any reneging will be seen as an act of weakness or worse. It will sour what little contact we have with that nation and place us at a disadvantage to whatever kingdom is able to accept and fulfill that role. Now, knowing all of this, what way could you possibly see to remove us from this contract while keeping the other appeased and willing to continue this deal? Enlighten me, Hermann.”

His father would not back down without an answer and Hermann, foolish as he was, could not stand to lose face here. Steeling himself, he managed to keep most of the trembling from his voice.

“We do not need to break our agreement, Your Majesty. We simply need to alter our end of the deal.”

“How?” So, Lars wanted Hermann to say it out loud. So be it.

“We, that is, I will take Bastien’s place. I will marry the duke.”

Almost immediately the harsh look melted away, back to Lars’ typical emotionless state. Never before had Hermann considered that look could possibly seem _soft_ until now.

“Oh, Hermann. I understand you have always doted on your younger brother but there is no need to claim this as your idea to protect him.”

Again, his father doubted him. Hermann shook his head. “No! Father, this is my own choice. I am saying that I will marry the duke to save us from the scene Bastien is sure to make, and to do my duty to our kingdom.”

“Hermann, this is no task you must do—”

“No, sir, I insist—”

“No one expects you to burden yourself—”

“But am I not burdening others?”

“Hermann—”

“ _Please_ , Your Majesty! Father, I…” Hermann’s voice wavered and he looked away, unable to watch what reaction his words would inspire. “Father, I wish to take Bastien’s place. I have no prospective brides on hand to ruin with this marriage, and…”

And here is where it burned the worst. He squeezed his eyes shut. “… And I have no qualms marrying a man. I would not feel reluctant to share his bed.”

Silence. Hermann hated the silence.

“Please, sir,” he spoke again, voice soft in the small room, “I want nothing more than to help bring prosperity to our kingdom. However it may be achieved.”

There was silence again but Lars did not let it hold for too long.

“Hermann, if this is truly your own decision then I will honor it.”

Shock, confusion at the tiredness lacing his father’s tone, Hermann looked up. He did not see any differences in Lars’ expression, but…

“It is. What I want, sir.”

It couldn’t be real.

Lars nodded and stood.

“I am late for court. Hermann, you know so little of the world and I fear for your future, but this choice I will grant you. For the good of our kingdom.” And with that cryptic statement Lars strode out the door, leaving Hermann to look after him in disbelief. It was only once his father was gone that he realized he was shaking.

 

Hermann didn’t leave his mother’s old study until well after court was underway. He did not always sit in as it was a dull affair but in recent years he had often made it a point to try whenever something important was on the agenda. He was too late to make it in without causing a ruckus, however, and instead spent his day in the gardens gazing over the flowerbeds.

He considered retrieving a pair of garden scissors and a basket to fill with flowers for those long forgotten vases in Petra’s room, but practicality stayed his hands. No one but the maid staff ever went in there, and usually only to dust. The flowers would garner no one enjoyment, just slowly wither away until they needed to be thrown out. And even if he claimed it was for his mother’s memory it had been so many years, he doubted even her ghost would care.

No, instead Hermann merely lost himself to his thoughts. Had he made the correct choice? There was no way to back out now so of course it caused doubt to rear its terrible head. The memory of his mother also persisted, filtered in from the back of his mind.

Had she been married to Lars in the same cold, distant way it seemed all his family’s marriages were structured? Was she always just obligated? Or did she find happiness and love with a man as seemingly unfeeling as his father?

A strange memory, heavily fogged and long forgotten, floated into Hermann’s mind. His father’s face, so much younger but still somehow old, smiling down at him. A dizzying motion, weightlessness, then Lars opened his mouth to speak. Hermann anticipated the words, knowing exactly what he was going to say—

“ _Hermann_!”

Bastien’s cry had Hermann on alert, struggling to his feet only to be tackled back down to the bench in a tangle of arms. Breath knocked from his lungs, Hermann swatted at his little brother in a fruitless effort to get him to let go but Bastien continued to hold him, giggle and ridiculous as ever.

“Hermann,” Bastien said, finally moving to allow his older brother some air, “you spoke to Dietrich, just like you said! I’m no longer engaged! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Yes, yes,” Hermann said testily, though he couldn’t stop the fond twitch of his lips. He hid it as best he could by making a show of dusting off his tunic and pants. “Fruitless as it was, I did speak to Dietrich. It was actually father who—”

“So this is where you ran off to,” said perhaps the most grating voice Hermann had ever heard. Turning, both princes looked back down the garden path to see the duke strolling towards them. As usual he was in his very Zeelsirg attire, which consisted of hardly any clothing at all.

Hermann, in a moment of icy clarity, had a horrifying thought.

“Do not tell me you were presented in court wearing only _that!_ ” Bastien’s chagrined expression did not lend Hermann any hope.

Newton, for his part, merely tilted his head, his eyes squinting behind his frames as if puzzled. Finally, he answered. “Well, I did also have my cloak on.”

Hermann’s lips pinched into a frown. A cloak would have added nothing for modesty, but the imagery that flooded Hermann’s mind was hardly disagreeable. Just thinking of the man sprawled across a bed, wearing only those short pants and a cloak to leave just enough skin to tease…

Then Newton had to open his mouth again and ruin it all.

“Hey! Stop looking at me with that face that says you smell something rotten!” It was relieving to know Hermann hadn’t let his lust show, at least. Still, the unflattering words did nothing to endear the duke to him.

Newton stepped closer, offering Hermann his hand as if to help him up from the bench. “You’re going to be my husband it seems. We should spend some time getting to know each other.”

Hermann looked down at open palm before turning away and struggling up to his feet by himself. He was not so crippled that he could not even stand on his own! And besides, with Newton’s hand so close and his skin looking so warm and inviting, Hermann could hardly promise he wouldn’t make some sort of improper scene. He had to set an example for Bastien, after all. Boundaries had to be put firmly in place for Hermann’s own good name to remain intact.

“Your Grace, I am certain whatever way you intent for us to go about becoming acquainted can best be accomplished within eyesight and earshot of an approved chaperon.” The look Bastien gave him was comical, and it seemed he was not the only one to find Hermann’s words nonsensical. He felt foolish just saying it out loud, but he couldn’t let his true thoughts and wishes through. Better to be above it all then debase himself.

“First of all, shove it with that _Your Grace_ crap! Call me Newt! And second, are you serious? A chaperon? Really?” Newton was practically sputtering. “What, do you think I intend to fuck you against the most readily available surface—”

“ _I think_ ,” Hermann cut in before that wording could lead his thoughts further into depraved fantasies, “that we should follow simple _decorum_ , Your Grace.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermann swallowed down all his base desires and stared down his fiance with the most poise he could muster.

“You, sir, seem to be operating under the assumption that you can continue on doing whatever you please here for agreeing to a marriage that will bring our kingdom prosperity. But what you fail to realize, the largest error in your equation, is that this is _not_ Zeelsirg Islands. This is the Kingdom of Geotiblt and you are marrying into _our_ family, not the other way around.

“Your lack of understanding how this country operates and your complete disregard for our culture is a disgrace to my family. My father the king may be lenient for now, but to think you wore hardly anything to an open reception, exposing your chest and arms like a barbarian, undermines the authority of our official court. And I am unwilling to coddle your selfishness any further.”

Bastien looked at Hermann as if he had taken a leave of his senses. As for Newton, his face had long since gone from shock to ill-concealed anger. The hand he had previous held out to Hermann was now at his side, fingers fisted and shaking.

“Coddle my selfishness…” Newton shook his head, eyes flashing behind his glasses. So green. “Maybe you should examine your own selfishness first _before_ screaming about it to others.”

Hermann jerked in outrage. “My-”

“No! Forget this!” The duke began to storm away, not looking back even as he shouted. “You can take your propriety and shove it!”

The princes watched him go for a few seconds, Hermann still feeling hot under the collar, until Bastien turned back to him with shining eyes. The look of confused hurt in them startled Hermann, his anger evaporating almost instantly.

“Hermann, what were you thinking?” And Bastien turned and fled after Newton, leaving Hermann to ask himself the same thing.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely kudos and comments! <3 I actually do appreciate them, I just am terrible at responding to anything since I'm not all that interesting and can think of nothing more to say than "thank you" most of the time, haha! Anyway, here ya go!

“So, I heard the news.”

Hermann looked up from the two books in front of him, one a collection of star charts from the east and the other a field manual he had been hunting for after it had been referenced in a knight’s memoir he had read two years prior. Both books were old and worn and both called for his attention. And just in time. He needed a new distraction from the tension following him since the announcement of his engagement.

Unfortunately, it seemed his guest was determined to bring the unpleasant topic right to the fore.

“Vanessa, must we?” he pleaded, but the dark, razor-sharp, intelligent stare of his friend meant he was not escaping this conversation.

“Hermann, after all the secrets we have shared, you did not think you could give me the news of your betrothal _before_ the rest of the country knew?” By the smart way she snapped her own book shut it was clear her irritation only had a thin veneer of calm to conceal it.

Sighing, Hermann abandoned his chair at the desk and moved to sit beside her on the sofa. They were in Hermann’s study, the door open and his shadow just outside of sight but close enough to hear every word. It wasn’t ideal privacy but that was a luxury Hermann hadn’t been given in a long, long time.

“Vanessa,” he began, tone patient but hardly overshadowing his annoyance, “I did not tell you because I did not even know if it would be official until the very day of the announcement. And besides, _you_ have not deigned to visit here in over a month. I hardly see where you are fit to chide me in this.”

“It’s a busy time of the year for us commoners who don’t get to have our noses in books all day, much as we may wish,” she countered but her smile was back and Hermann relaxed under its radiance. All was forgiven on both ends.

Sighing again, Hermann sank back into the plush cushions, head tilting back. His eyes trailed along the textures in the plaster ceiling but his hands fidgeting, fingers tapping against the grip of his cane laying across his lap. A few minutes passed this way and Vanessa let out a huff.

“You were acting like you didn’t want to talk about it, but look at you now.” She shook her head, dark, tight braids cascading around her shoulders. “Go ahead. Talk. Tell me what’s going on behind that abnormally-shaped face of yours.”

Hermann sent a scowl in her direction but it melted away as he began to speak. “… I’m afraid I’ve already spoiled things between myself and the duke. He said he wished to get to know me and I chastised him severely.”

“You chastised him… for being friendly?” Vanessa closed her eyes as if not looking directly at Hermann might mean what he just said would fade from existence.

“For being overly friendly,” Hermann clarified in haste. “For his impropriety and lack of cultural sensitivity! Surely, if you heard of our engagement you were also informed of the duke’s overt immodesty.”

Vanessa pursed her lips, her eyes squinting open in disbelief. “I didn’t think they could possibly be serious, just determined to make him sound as exotic and wild as a foreigner could be.”

“Well, in this case, they were not exaggerating.” Hermann released a huff of air, feeling some relief at getting everything off his chest. “Covered in strange illustrations and carrying on in hardly anything more than a pair of breeches. It’s unseemly.”

Vanessa was quiet after that, her elegant fingers tracing the worn edges of the book in her lap. She was contemplative, considering, and Hermann almost went straight back to his desk to start on one of his new books, thinking the conversation was over. When he moved to stand, however, Vanessa held out her hand, placing it lightly over Hermann’s where it clutched his cane.

“You have read them, haven’t you?” she said and Hermann blinked back at her in confusion. “You know, the diaries and journals of travelers, seamen, and explorers. Whenever they found a new place to scout they would find the cultures and peoples there strange and backwards. And yet, when you read the diaries and journals kept by people whose homes had been invaded or toured by strangers, they too felt the customs of those from foreigners quite odd.”

“That’s not the point,” Hermann said, trying to turn her back to his side. Vanessa lifted an elegant eyebrow in response.

“You, Prince Hermann, are being stubborn,” Vanessa stated with an ashamed shake of her head. “How bull-headed can one man be?”

“He gets it from Father, I’m sure,” Bastien cut in, strolling into the study with an overly-wide smile. To Hermann’s continued annoyance, Vanessa even smiled back.

Hermann planted himself all the firmer in his seat, unwilling to relinquish it at all now. Bastien could stand if he was going to interrupt his time with his friend. Hermann snapped, irate, “What do you want?”

“Don’t be so sour, Hermann, c’mon!” But as sweet and coy as Bastien’s pout was the older prince refused to fold.

A sigh and Bastien’s shoulders fell, his smile still in place but morphing into one of chagrin. “Okay, so, I know you were talking about the duke and, look, Newt is a good person. You should really go talk to him. No one has seen him since he barricaded himself in his suite. Tendo’s worried about him.”

Hermann kept his mouth shut firm and his eyes trained on a discolored spot on the floor rug. Vanessa looked between the two of them, hesitant.

“And, who is Tendo?”

Bastien’s eyes lit back up but before he could answer Hermann spoke. “ _Sir_ Tendo is the duke’s knight and protector.”

“Oh, so he has a bodyguard, too?”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Yeah,” added Bastien, looking smug at having found a place to cut in again, “Royalty can’t just go around alone, no matter how skilled a fighter they may be.”

“I know that!” If Vanessa were the type to roll her eyes she would be doing such. As it was, she went quiet, her hands coming together over her book. “I was only hoping to encourage Hermann to find something to bond over with the duke. What is his name, again?”

“It’s Newton, and we will not be bonding over anything!” It was enough that thinking about Newton got him all hot and bothered. Just imagining spending time with him for any long period just seemed like a bad idea.

“Hey…” Bastien’s quiet tone and the somber look on his face gripped Hermann’s attention and he turned an uncritical eye on his younger brother. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this mess. Well, my fault and Dietrich’s, and Father’s, too. But I think it would be better to get to know him before you get married. He’s a nice guy, and really smart.”

That last statement caused Hermann to raise an eyebrow. “Really smart? Oh, yes, that’s certainly something to _bond_ over.”

“Well, you can’t really bond over fashion sense.” And despite knowing exactly what Bastien intended Hermann only managed to flap and squawk before his younger brother reached down and mussed his hair. “Seriously, Hermann, why do you still have this soldier cut anyway? You haven’t been to training in years!”

“The doctor’s have never said I would never be allowed to train again,” Hermann sniffed, attempting to smooth down his hair as best he could with vain pats and strokes of his hands.

Tactfully, Vanessa and Bastien didn’t respond to that in any way. Instead, Vanessa moved to her feet, cradling her book in her arms, the picture of feminine grace.

“I believe I’ll head home. Father will need help counting the inventory, no doubt.”

Hermann hadn’t even planted his cane to stand before Bastien, like a lovesick puppy, clasped her arm in his.

“I’ll escort you, my lady!”

Hermann frowned, finally making it to his feet. “I can see her to the gates.”

Bastien’s brows rose. “But I can see her back home.”

Hermann looked away, his grip on his cane turning his fingers white. There was no arguing with that. Vanessa, her hands a dark contrast, covered Hermann’s for just a moment in farewell before she stepped out of the room. Bastien lingers in the doorway a moment longer but Hermann refused to look his way.

“Seriously, Hermann. Go talk to Newt. Please. For me?”

Hermann sighed, closing his yes. He had no strength to deny that pleading voice, no matter how cross his younger brother made him.

“I will never call him by that abysmal nickname,” Hermann insisted, finally turning his gaze back up. Bastien flashed him a grin and skipped away after Vanessa. Hermann supposed that was reward enough for now.

 

Proud though Hermann was, he could at least admit that Bastien was right about one thing. It would make things easier on everyone if he allowed himself time to get to know Newton better, even if all that came from it was enough familiarity to keep him from having lewd thoughts around the man at every chance encounter.

Going to see Newton was a little easier to say than to do, however, and for several reasons. Firstly, Hermann had been so rude on their last encounter he knew it would likely require some sort of apology on his part, and Hermann hated apologizing. Secondly, Hermann still did not believe that what he had said had been wrong, so he felt even less inclined to humble himself around his fiance. And thirdly, once apologies were out of the way… what else could they possibly talk about that wouldn’t give away Hermann’s overt lust for the man?

Unwilling to charge ahead without some plan of attack, Hermann turned to the one thing he always had when there was no where else to turn—books. Genealogies of the various kingdoms did little to help; Zeelsirg had only been mentioned up to the birth of Queen Monica and Hermann knew the woman had children now though he was unsure about their ages. There was no time to wait for an updated release of information there, so Hermann took a different approach. The almanac explained the exotic crops native to the islands, sailors’ records showed fishing logs and weather patterns, and transcriptions of old texts from the islands gave shape to an ancient religion that worshiped the god of the sea, spices, and fire. Strangely enough, it seemed oddly similar to a deity mentioned in Geotibltese mythology, Ornbawrlukey.

Still, none of this helped Hermann. It was all too out of date, too archaic. Hermann had always been more interested in the now, in science and progress. Looking to the past couldn’t help him win over the day.

Frustrated, Hermann went to dinner without any sense of satisfaction. Bastien still hadn’t come back from town, and it looked as if he had missed his elder brother, Maria, and his father entirely. If the duke had shown himself he had already gone as well. Instead, only Karla was present and by the look of her plate she had only come down a short while ago.

“Studying late, Hermann?” she said in way of greeting. She knew him all too well.

Hermann pulled his chair back with a groan, seating himself beside her. “Yes, and fruitlessly.”

He dug into his chicken. It was cold but had good flavor nonetheless. Karla spooned some extra peas onto his plate and Hermann scoffed, but he would eat them anyway.

“What’s the subject this time? I may be able to help.”

“Zeelsirg, everything and anything about the place,” Hermann said, buttering a roll. He placed it on Karla’s plate before getting himself one and doing the same.

“Why the sudden interest? Planning to help advise Dietrich in dealing with his new brother-in-law?” Her tone struck Hermann as strangely mocking.

Glaring, Hermann forced a spoonful of peas into his mouth before answering. “ _No._ I wanted to find an angle to approach speaking to the duke. He’s going to be my husband so I—”

“The duke is to marry Bastien.” Karla spoke matter-of-fact but there was a strange gleam in her eye. So, it seemed she hadn’t heard, locked away in her tower as she had been.

Hermann glanced away. “Not anymore.”

“Hermann,” she said, putting down her fork and knife, “tell me what has happened.”

So Hermann did, affecting his most nonchalant tone but the sharpness of his gestures surely gave away some of his anxiety. By the time he had explained everything, even up to his disastrous talk with the other man, Karla was pale and nearly bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Explaining everything, on top of his own mental exhaustion, caused Hermann’s shoulders to sag in defeat. He couldn’t imagine any good scenario where he did anything more than continue to insult and push away at his fiance. He wanted that man _so much_ and yet…

Arms came around his shoulders and Hermann found himself breathing in the familiar scent of Karla’s chestnut hair. Was it really so childish that such a thing reminded him painfully of their mother? His arms moved to surround Karla in return, holding her tight.

“Oh, Hermann, I’m so… so sorry, what I said before, I—” but he shushed away any further words.

Collecting themselves was no quick task but neither found themselves in any hurry either. By the time Karla was back in her seat Hermann knew both sets of eyes were bound to be dry. The only indication it had happened at all was now a dull ache in his hip but such a sacrifice was pittance compared to comforting and being comforted by his sister.

“So,” she said, her voice deeper and husky, “you want to reach out to the duke. To make amends.”

“If I can,” Hermann said, his voice soft. It made him feel lighter to admit, but no less apprehensive. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I was not kind to him in the least.”

“You have unkind moments, Hermann, but you are incredibly kind,” Karla insisted, her own voice so steady the prince found himself taken aback. He could not find it in him to argue and Karla did not elaborate upon the point further.

“Have you not considered allowing things to take their natural course?”

“Natural?” That was hardly the best idea. Hermann was almost glad he had been so recently upset so he wouldn’t need to make up an excuse for why his face was red and burning.

“You’re making it more complicated than you ought, Hermann.” Karla sighed, then took a bite of her roll, chewing contemplatively. After a moment, her eyes lit up. “Why don’t you write the duke a letter?”

“He lives in _this castle_ , Karla.”

“Yes, but! The two of you cannot seem to get along long enough to have a simple conversation, right? Maybe space, and some time to form your words tactfully, might get you further than a simple hello.”

Hermann hummed around a bite of peas. Perhaps she was right.

“Did you need to borrow some stationary, Hermann?” Hermann looked up from his plate to see his sister gazing at him, sympathy and warmth radiating form her. Hazel, gentle eyes so much like their mother’s…

“Ah, no, I do have my own. Thank you.” Hermann wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin, then frowned. “I must say, you seem much more accepting of this than you were when it was Bastien set to be married. Are you really so at ease with the duke marrying me instead?”

Karla remained quiet a moment, tearing a piece of chicken from the bone. She studied the off white color of the drumstick then spoke softly.

“I suppose I feel better with you as the duke’s intended because… well, you mentioned yourself that you did not mind. And you are right, Bastien would have only been all the more miserable had it been confirmed.” Another pause, then she looked back up to Hermann’s eyes.

“You weren’t forced to choose this, Hermann. You made this decision and spoke up to Father of your own accord. It’s easier to accept, to know one of us chose to marry, rather than just being told it would happen and to whom and where.”

Hermann wadded his napkin in his lap, suddenly unsure. “So… it was the same for Dietrich, do you think?”

“I imagine, so, but I wonder if it seems such a burden now, considering Sofie and Lena.” Hermann felt warmth flood him, the first truly happy sensation in days at just the mention of his nieces.

“How are the girls lately?” he asked. “Do you see them at all?”

“Sometimes,” Karla said but her smile was not so bright as to be hopeful. “The last few days I think it was deemed too hot for them to go out, so they’ve been pouting in the nursery for hours on end.”

“Better than them burning,” Hermann sighed but he felt for the two girls. At ages five and three they were so energetic and wanted little more than to be always outside in the gardens. Darling princesses that they were, mostly they remained under the care of Maria and their nanny, but sometimes Hermann took a few hours of his day to visit with them.

When had he last gone to that wing of the castle? Surely not at all since the duke arrived, and before that…

“Speaking of,” said Karla, standing to her feet, “I think I shall call up some tea and desserts to sneak to them. You will consider my suggestion, won’t you, Hermann?”

She reached out and gently touched his cheek. Huffing, Hermann reached for her hand but he made no move to turn her away. Just cradled the back of her palm tenderly.

“I will consider it.” Indeed, after all his uselessness Hermann had little else to consider otherwise.

 

Hermann tapped his quill against the inkwell to knock off an excess drop of liquid then moved to hover over the parchment. It was late now, the sun having finally retreated below the horizon, but a candle at the edge of his desk was enough light for the task at hand. It was late enough that even Hermann had managed to convince his bodyguard to head on to bed; staying up late to study wasn’t anything new to his schedule and it was one of the few instances where Hermann was allowed to dismiss his shadow without beforehand asking his father’s permission. And only because the late night sentries would surely catch any dangers that otherwise might be lurking in the night.

But now that Hermann sat here he found starting the letter a challenge already. He wanted to be formal, knowing he did not deserve to treat the duke with any sense of familiarity, so starting the letter with the traditional salutation was out. Instead, he opted for the most direct greeting:

_For the attention of Duke Newton of Zeelsirg,_

It was a start. Cringing internally, Hermann set about getting the worst of it over—the apology.

_Your Grace, I understand that when we last spoke we parted on rather tense terms and for this I am sorry. I regret that my welcome to you was cold and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. I confess I was only wishing to retain the proper level of decorum and did not mean to insinuate I did not wish to get to know you._

Not the most charming or sincere apology, but it would do. Hermann paused just a moment before continuing, getting to the very heart of the matter.

_In fact, I very much would like to better familiarize myself with you. As you are to be my husband and forever joining this family, it is only right that we do our best to put away differences. A seamless front of solidarity instills respect and assurance in the people so we owe it, not only to one another, but to everyone else depending on the royal family of Geotiblt. This means we need to work together. I am willing to try if you are also willing in return._

Hermann took a moment to close his eyes and center his thoughts. The best way to continue would be… Hermann wet his quill once again then continued.

_To start, I shall tell you a little about myself. I am the second son and third child of King Lars, age twenty and five. I study a large variety of texts in hope of someday helping to advise my older brother after he takes the throne. My interests are also generally book-related but I find I am most drawn to the progress in various maths and astronomy. I enjoy walks in the gardens and visiting the horse stables, but I do not myself ride._

Was that enough? Surely it gave Newton something to work with. He continued:

_I would be most cheered to find if any of your own interests coincide with my own. I look forward to hearing more about you and finding common ground._

Hermann bit his lip, hesitating only a moment before forcing himself to add one more line before the conclusion.

_Please write back soon._

_Wishing you the best of health,  
Prince Hermann of Geotiblt_

Taking a deep breath, Hermann wiped the ink from his quill and stoppered the inkwell, leaving the parchment on the desk unrolled so that the ink could dry. Tomorrow he would read over his writing one time before sending it to the duke via his loyal knight. Tendo would probably find Hermann’s letter to be just the olive branch they needed. Or so Hermann hoped.

Unable to do anything more, Hermann took up his cane, stood, and leaned over to blow the candle out.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Newt again! Ack! Sorry! But he should have more consistent presence soon, I swear orz
> 
> Also, FINALLY mentioning ages in this chapter! I waffled on where I should have them all placed on the age scale and decided I couldn't have the main pairing *too* old or else it would be bizarrely incongruous with how arranged royal marriages were handled. Not that historical accuracy is all that important in a fairytale world where gay marriages between royalty is hardly weird BUT YOU KNOW. Things. /throws up hands
> 
> So yes, Hermann and Newt are 25 and 24, respectively. I have it where Karla is 27, Dietrich is 32, and Bastien is 18. Vanessa, who does not have and will not have a relationship with Hermann, is also 25. And no worries, she's not too major to the main plot but I figured Hermann would need a confidant outside of his family since the Gottliebs are still The Gottliebs, as it were.
> 
> AAAAAND if anyone has any questions about this fic and the world it takes place in, feel free to ask; as long as the answer isn't too spoilery I will do my best to let you know!


	5. Chapter 5

Hermann’s cane clacked an unsteady cadence on the floor as he rushed up to his study, a roll of parchment clutched tight in his fist. As much as he would hate to be seen as over-eager Hermann had been distracted beyond comfort for hours. Best to satiate his curiosity immediately rather than suffer another moment in suspense.

And anyway, it would be atrociously rude to leave the duke waiting for a response, never mind how long he had allowed Hermann to stew.

Hermann had placed his letter to Newton in Tendo’s hands as soon as he had broken his fast. He was conflicted, relief fighting with concern, to find that Newton had refused to join them all again that morning. If his father or Dietrich were worried by the duke’s absence they said not a word on the matter. Bastien and Karla, her eyes dark with sleeplessness, both eyed Hermann meaningfully. He said nothing, having no works of comfort even to assuage his own worries.

Tendo had assured him he would take the letter to Newton straight away. Then two hours passed of Hermann idling over his star charts without really seeing them. Giving it up for a lost cause, Hermann spent the remaining few hours before lunch visiting with is nieces. Their darling smiles and precocious questions kept him more than entertained. By the time the meal bell had rung he was exhausted with their enthusiasm but remained charmed.

He finished lunch with a renewed appetite but it felt heavy in his stomach for all of half an hour after. Then he was given his reply by a skittish Tendo. He’d hardly given the man time to finish offering his greeting before heading off to read it. Which is where Hermann found himself now, sitting at his desk and unrolling the fine parchment.

Newton’s handwriting was surprisingly elegant, completely at odds with his brash nature. But even that was of little concern when compared to the contents. Mouth dry, Hermann pulled out his worn reading spectacles from the safety of their soft leather sleeve and began to scan the letter.

_For the attention of Prince Hermann of Geotiblt,_

_First of all, I meant it when I said to quit it with the “Your Grace” crap. If you address me in such a way again I swear I won’t speak (or write) to you again. Seriously, call me Newt. N. E. W. T. That’s all I ask._

_And as for the rest of it, I’ll have you know I ought to burn your letter and force you to come to me in person. I ought to demand a whole mess of apologies. You should be begging at my feet to not write to the Queen of Zeelsirg and insist this wedding be hung and all of Geotiblt to suffer the loss._

_But really, I’m not that kind of person. Hell, I couldn’t even keep you waiting longer then half a day before writing back, and maybe that’s to my detriment. But I felt, or maybe I just have hope, that your letter was sincere. And I prefer it when people speak plainly to me, so let’s go along with your idea for now and play nice._

_As you know, I’m Newton of Zeelsirg. I am twenty and four, but I will catch up to you after the turn of the year. I was never set up to be groomed as something as vital as an adviser but it seems my life still has some value; I was destined to become a political pawn instead. However, that has given me the freedom to pursue the studies that I pleased._

_While I enjoy a book on occasion I prefer to be hands-on with my work. My interests in animals don’t just fall on horses but the entire known animal kingdom, though I find myself most drawn to underwater life. Other than that my interests fall in the realm of music. I play a variety of instruments and have dabbled in composition, though I have yet to write a verse that feels truly inspired. Do you enjoy music, Hermann?_

_I’m running low on space, so I’ll tie this up here._

_To your health,  
Newton of Zeelsirg_

By the time Hermann got to the end of the message he wasn’t sure what to think. Several emotions clashed for dominion, and while he was not outright rejected in the response he was also unhappy with the tepid result. Steeling himself, Hermann read it again, slowly this time and with a less vulnerable heart.

Clearly Newton understood he was the one in power in this relationship, and while he promised not to end things due to Hermann’s foolishness he still had that card to play at any time he wanted. Hermann was officially tied, the only one capable of causing this deal between their nations to collapse. _Terrifying._

But once Newton’s ill-concealed threat was out of the way, a few more pieces to the puzzle that was Newton started coming together. The duke had no say in being married, it was set for him in stone and to whatever kingdom proved most valuable. And it also explained his whimsical interests and mannerisms. Animals and music. An odd combination, to be sure, but something Hermann could work with.

This time, when Hermann took up his quill, he wrote quickly, not willing to dally longer than necessary.

_Newton,_

_If you insist on dropping the proper style with which we are to address one another, then I suppose I can do the same in informal contexts. Understand that decorum dictates certain situations must be taken into account. Otherwise, please address me as Hermann. May I at least call you Newton in lieu of Newt? It is a fine name, don’t you think?_

_Alas, we are all pawns in the game of politics. But we can endeavor to make our time as game pieces as comfortable and enjoyable as possible._

_Fauna does little to interest me, including marine life but I did not grow up surrounded by the deep blue ocean. Were that my home I might have found them more worthy of study. And alas, music is also not one of my interests. I have never been particularly religious, nor was it deemed a valuable skill to pursue beyond the memorization of some odd few nursery tunes._

Hermann paused in his writing here, biting his bottom lip. What else was there to say? He tapped his quill on the lip of the inkwell then continued.

_I do hope our interests have not already met an impasse. If so, perhaps you could tell me of your home, as I will not likely get to see it for myself?_

_Your intended,  
Hermann of Geotiblt_

This note he sent to Newton through the first servant to arrive at his call. No need to run Tendo ragged when his role was not that of messenger boy.

Hermann also called up some tea, expecting he might need to wait a while longer for Newton’s reply. His own pride be damned, he was willing to send a reply immediately, no matter how desperate it made him out to be. Newton could—

And yet, as soon as the steaming pot of tea had arrived so too did a fresh response. Hermann poured himself a cup and untied the wrapped parchment, finding ink stains and hurried writing smudging the otherwise neat script. Intrigued, Hermann began to read.

_Hermann then,_

_Newt is preferred but I suppose Newton is allowable. See? We can come to a compromise! I’d rather not be someone’s game piece at all, but the roll of pawn is nothing I cannot live with. Of course, we create our own entertainment._

_It’s a shame you don’t care for animals. They’re right fascinating! Don’t you ever wonder about_

The sentence stopped there as if Newt thought better of it and started a new paragraph.

_What does music have to do with religion? You mean to say you don’t just listen to music to enjoy it? Sounds like you live a bland life, if I’m to be frank._

_Look, I’m all for telling you about the Zeelsirg Islands but that’s not my home anymore. This is going to be my home, so maybe you should be telling me more about Geotiblt instead. You are going to be my husband, and this will be my family. How about we start there?_

_And yours,  
Newt_

While it appeared Hermann’s attempt to glean information and open a new line of dialog about Zeelsirg was rebutted, the counter-proposal of Hermann explaining more to Newt about his new home was plenty to work with. Hermann’s tea turned lukewarm then cold as he soundly ignored the pot, his quill practically racing across the pages. By the time he felt he had written a brief introduction of his family and their roles, interests, and likes more than an hour had passed.

Adding a quick apology for the wait in-between letters, Hermann bound the parchment and sent it off.

 

And so the day carried on in a similar fashion, both men writing and replying, sometimes throwing out the occasional barb but mostly informative and inquisitive. Hermann found the books he had to occupy himself between responses a tedious distraction at best. By the time dinner was to be served the prince was all too eager to start carrying out the conversation in person. With a thrumming anticipation in his heart, Hermann made his way to the dining room and wound up arriving before everyone else.

Every time the door would open he turned, hardly caring to restrain his interest, only to see it was another sibling of his come to eat. Once Lars made an appearance the food was served, but Newton still hadn’t arrived. Disappointment turned to embarrassment and then to resentment. Glaring down at his gazpacho, Hermann fought against the tightening in his throat.

“Hermann.”

Hermann looked to his father, knowing he had failed to keep his emotions from showing. The king was frowning, his brows drawn together. “Is something wrong?”

The stillness that followed the question caused even more heat to rush to his head. Swallowing, he tried to speak.

“I-I…”

A tight, pinching sensation between his eyes started up and Hermann felt panic rise. He couldn’t cry here, he was an adult, this was—

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highnesses!” A breathless shout from the door had all heads turning. Hermann used the distraction to quickly swipe at his eyes with a knuckle.

The manservant, flushed in the face and panting, bowed over and over as he approached the table, clutching something in his hands. “I apologize for the interruption, but the duke insisted I take his message to the prince immediately.”

Again eyes turned to Hermann but it was Lars Hermann was watching. All irritation slipped away and his father seemed almost bored as he gave a wave of his hand.

“Then get on with it so we may continue our meal.”

Stuttering the whole time, the man scurried to Hermann’s side to offer up the note before rushing away. Hermann quickly opened it, finding the worst writing out of Newton he had seen all day but it was still legible. Scanning the message, Hermann breathed deep and his chest relaxed, opening up his lungs again.

“Th-the duke says he has been ill and hopes we forgive his absence over the last few days,” Hermann said at last, glad to find his voice returning to its usual steady timbre. He did not announce that Newton had also mentioned having finished one last message that would be awaiting Hermann up in his room after dinner.

Appetite renewed, Hermann started in on his soup, ignoring Bastien’s curious glances. Karla reached over to place a hand on Hermann’s knee briefly under the table. Otherwise Hermann was not pestered again throughout their meal.

Finishing dinner and hardly giving dessert a second glance, Hermann rushed back to his study. As promised one more letter had arrived, still wrapped and rolled, resting on his desk. This one was briefer than the rest but more than made up for length with content.

_Hermann,_

_The hour grows late and I more than believe we have both cooled down from our earlier spat. From reading your letters I have gleaned you are an intelligent man and more than worthy to become my husband. I cannot say we will always be happy but I am certain we can find ways to enjoy our marriage, even if that means we must take breaks and just write to each other now and again._

_Be that as it may, I would like to try face-to-face interactions once more. We need to familiarize ourselves with one another socially if we want to project a sturdy front as you wrote a while ago. To do that we must practice. So why don’t you meet me for breakfast at dawn? We should spend the day together. If you have any previously arranged plans then mention them and we will reschedule but I would like to start as quickly as possible._

_Show me your world, Hermann. Let me into yours and I will surely allow you into mine._

_Your intended,  
Newt_

Hermann hardly realized he was biting his lip until he tasted copper. Newton wanted to spend time with him. Alone. Mostly alone. Sure, his shadow would be in attendance, but could Hermann handle himself around Newton without ruining his controlled, austere image? He couldn’t say for certain. All the confidence he had about meeting together before dinner drained away as the reality of it set in.

It would be easy to deny Newt, to write back and say he had a plan for the next day, and the next day, and the next, and push it back and back and back until there was no point of return. Newton was a smart man, he would figure it out. He wouldn’t stand for it that long, he would—

What? Call off the wedding? Mock Hermann for being just as base as any commoner, a slave to his flesh? Respond with passion of his own? It was too much, too much. But Hermann had no actual choice in the matter. They would be married unless he upset Newton and Hermann did not want that. He refused to fail his family in this, a path that he had chosen to take on and requested directly from his father.

Hermann looked over Newton’s letters once more before binding them together and placing them in his desk. Then he wrote a short acceptance note and sent it on its way. With that done there was no place else to go. Steeling himself for the future, Hermann took himself to his room and spent the next several hours tossing and turning in his bed.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't feel complete and still doesn't really but you've all waited enough. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for taking so long. orz


End file.
